


Warm in December

by 99bad_habits



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff and Smut, HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE, Lesbian Sex, Mamacostia being The Best, Masturbation, Post-Canon, Raylla being cute and dirty, Rough Sex, Slice of Life, Strap-Ons, Winter Solstice fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:42:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28227846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/99bad_habits/pseuds/99bad_habits
Summary: The war with the Camarilla is over and Raelle and Scylla are moving into their new house, excited to finally start their lives together in peace. The Winter Solstice is just around the corner and Scylla has a not-so-innocent request for Raelle. It would be the perfect Solstice gift—if she can work up the courage to ask.
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 18
Kudos: 141
Collections: MFSRI Winter Solstice Fic Exchange 2020





	Warm in December

**Author's Note:**

  * For [holeybubushka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/holeybubushka/gifts).



> I got your post canon dirty talk smut right here bro. Added a dash of sweetness 'cause tis the season. Enjoy! 💖

“Are you ready, Raelle?” asked Scylla as she put the Bronco into neutral and took the keys out of the ignition. Without the growl of its engine, the forest clearing around them fell silent. 

Scylla glanced over to the passenger seat. Raelle was leaning forward, peering over the dashboard while holding her hand up to shield her eyes from the intense winter sun. Stripes of light bisected her face through the gaps in her fingers, and her lips curved up into a smile that ran through both dark and light. 

Not for the first time, Scylla felt a pang of regret, wishing she had any kind of creative ability so she could capture some essence of Raelle in moments like this, whether in words, or song, or on canvas.

However, that was not where her particular set of talents lay. Death and Necro Work had their own artistry, true. But she had used the latter to inflict the former far too much in her twenty-two years of life, particularly in the long, bitter war with the Camarilla.

Now though, with the fighting over, and the dismantling of both of Alder’s military and the Spree, Scylla hoped that those dark days of twisted Work were finally over. Witchkind was free now; Scylla could look forward to peace and an actual future that promised better things.

And being wistful about Raelle’s pretty face.

“Raelle?” Scylla touched Raelle’s hand to get her attention.

Raelle turned to Scylla, eyes mirroring the smile that had remained on her lips. “It’s beautiful here, Scyl.”

“You say that every time we park up.”

“Well, it’s true.”

They jumped out of the truck, boots crunching on pine needles and frost. While Raelle bent over to grab some bags under her seat, Scylla looked around the clearing.

Raelle was right; it was stunning. Even though it was winter, the evergreens surrounding them stood tall and proud. A light covering of snow dusted them—it had been falling all morning but had stopped just as they had pulled up. Now the sun hung high in a crystal sky of washed-out blue, clear and cold. It wasn’t Scylla’s favorite part of their section—that remained the beach, which curved just a few hundred meters from the front of their house—but she could still appreciate it, especially since it was now theirs.

“I can’t believe we own all of this,” said Raelle, putting her arm around Scylla as she came to stand next to her.

“You keep saying that, too,” Scylla said, re-wrapping Raelle’s scarf where it had come loose from the numerous bags now strapped to her. “Got enough stuff there? We can take the Bronco too if you want,” she teased.

“Pops had a bunch of last-minute stuff he wanted to give us. Essentials for the pantry.”

Scylla shook her head, smiling softly. “Edwin is fretting.” 

“He isn’t fretting. He just wants to make sure we’ve got everything we need. The winters can get harsh around here.” Raelle hefted the bags on her shoulder and strode across the clearing, heading towards a small track through the trees.

Scylla stuck her hands in her pockets and followed. “He is. He should know we’re well supplied. He was there when you chopped all of that firewood.”

“You can never be too prepared for a New England winter, Scyl. Hey, is that Anacostia’s Cherokee?” Raelle pointed to a dented green jeep parked near the track, partially obscured by the surrounding trees.

“Ah, yes. She’s helping me move in a few things today.”

Raelle’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Anacostia was here?”

“Anacostia is still here,” the woman herself announced, strolling up the track. Despite being bundled up in a fur-lined parka and sporting a less severe hairdo, she carried herself like she was still in uniform. It would take more than a year of peacetime to undo her army upbringing; Scylla suspected that despite giving up her military blues, Anacostia would shine her buttons and shoes until the grave.

She stopped at parade rest in front of Raelle and Scylla, her habitual sternness cracking for a moment to reveal a smile like the sun breaking from behind clouds.

“All finished,” she said to Scylla. “Told you the jeep could handle it all in one trip.” She turned to Raelle. “Something on my face, Collar?”

Raelle shut her mouth with a click of her teeth. “You’re one of the last people I expected to see here.”

“Salem’s a school now, not a jail. I’m allowed to go out and get some fresh air occasionally.” Her lips twitched in the barest hint of amusement. “Even if it is freezing.”

“I’m surprised Abi agreed to it,” Raelle said, not bothering to mask the bitterness in her tone.

Scylla sighed. This again.

“I didn’t ask,” Anacostia responded evenly. “She may be Dean, but I run the boarding houses. I set my own hours—if I want to take some personal leave, that’s up to me.”

“And how is that going?” Scylla asked, keeping the conversation alive while Raelle tightened her jaw and looked away.

“Slowly. Far too much so for our impatient Bellweather. But we’ll be ready for February.” Anacostia clasped her hands behind her back as they all walked to her jeep.

“So you’re sticking to opening on Conscription Day.”

“ _Former_ Conscription Day. And yes. We thought it would be best.”

Now it was Scylla's turn to be bitter. “Celebrating a servitude we’ve only just put behind us. Great.”

Anacostia raised an eyebrow. “The opportunity to turn something negative into something positive and might help all of us heal.”

“It was Tal’s idea,” Raelle chimed in, breaking her silence. “Is she doing okay? We don’t have a phone-line yet, and our last letter from her was weeks ago.”

“She’s in the Hague, advocating for the school.”

“And no doubt teaching geopolitical leaders the noble art of the Group Hug.” Scylla smiled at Raelle to take the sting out of the tease. She had a lot of time for Tally Craven.

They stopped when they arrived at Anacostia’s jeep, Raelle dumping her myriad of bags on the floor and stretching her shoulders. The battered old 4x4 had seen better days, but Anacostia refused to be parted with it. She’d stolen it from a Camarilla hideout during a botched operation at the start of the war, and had been inseparable from it since. 

Raelle snorted. “I can’t believe that thing hasn’t fallen apart yet.”

“She’s come through for me on every mission I’ve given her, including this one.” Anacostia patted the big jeep fondly. “And I wouldn’t cast stones if I were you, Raelle. That Bronco looks like it’s from the Stone Age.” 

“It was cheap,” Raelle responded defensively. “The guy gave me a good deal.” 

“Yes, yes, both of your ladies are lovely,” Scylla said, already bored with the car talk. “You said you managed everything, Anacostia?”

“Everything. Including that little surprise.”

“Surprise?” asked Raelle. 

“I’m sure we’ll make excellent use of it,” Scylla smirked, ignoring Raelle and winking at Anacostia.

Anacostia shot her a long-suffering Look. “Well, that’s my cue to leave,” she said, opening the door to the jeep. “I’d better get back. Enjoy your first day in your new place.”

“Thank you, Anacostia.” Scylla shifted her feet, cockiness evaporating as she debated about whether to go in for a hug.

“Anytime,” Anacostia said, hesitating before pulling both Scylla and Raelle into a stiff embrace.

Raelle had none of Scylla’s hesitation, wrapping her arms around the older woman and Scylla. “Thank you from me too. I had no idea you were helping us today, but I appreciate it.” She smiled at Scylla. “Even if you and my girlfriend are keeping secrets and conspiring against me.”

“We do have a history of collusion,” joked Scylla through a mouthful of fur lining.

Anacostia gave them a squeeze before letting them go. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ve made the right choice. The school isn’t going anywhere. Abigail will understand, just give her time. You two deserve to spend this peace together however you want. Including freezing your ass off in the middle of nowhere.” 

“Thanks again, Anacostia,” said Raelle. “For everything you’ve done for us.”

“Yes, well,” Anacostia’s cheeks took on a tinge of red and her manner became brusque. “It was nothing. Happy Solstice, ladies.” 

Raelle and Scylla kept their arms around each other as Anacostia lifted herself into the front seat and gunned the engine. 

“Happy Solstice,” Scylla called up to her.

Raelle and Scylla watched the jeep as it pulled away and disappeared around a bend in the road. 

“She’s right, you know,” said Scylla. “Atlantic will come around.”

Raelle’s brow furrowed. “Abi knew this was coming. You and I bought this place back in spring. We told everybody. And she knew I didn’t want to stick around Salem and teach.” 

Scylla sighed again. There was frustration in Raelle’s voice, but hurt and confusion too. She and Abigail hadn’t parted on the greatest of terms. Words had been said. And yelled.

“You want my two cents?” Scylla asked, only proceeding when Raelle nodded. “It’s because right now you’re here, and Tally’s at the Hague. It’s her first Solstice without you two since you guys became a unit. Also, you know she wanted you to run the Fixing program at Salem. It’s a personal and professional double whammy—she lost a talented teacher and a sister in one go.”

“She hasn’t lost me,” Raelle huffed, breath fogging in front of her face.

“She probably feels that way. Especially without Craven to tell her otherwise.”

Raelle fiddled with a ring on her index finger while she digested Scylla’s words. The ring was new—a gift from Tally and Abigail for her last birthday to replace the one Willa had given her. That now lay buried at the bottom of Raelle’s keepsakes trunk, untouched but not forgotten. Scylla took Raelle’s hand. She knew Raelle was missing Atlantic and Craven terribly right now. 

“You’re right,” Raelle sighed before giving Scylla a wry smile. “When did you become the Abigail Whisperer?”

“Atlantic and I don’t have many things in common—” An understatement, but Scylla chose not to belabor that point “—apart from our repartee and the fact that we both love you. She doesn’t want to lose you. I get it.” She pulled Raelle’s hand up to look at Raelle’s ring, and added, “If I had a family—sisters like you guys are—I’d want to hold on to them too.” 

Raelle’s shoulders slumped. “We couldn’t stay, Scyl. I know you have your research with Izadora, but I never wanted to teach—”

Scylla glanced up. “No, you didn’t. That was always Atlantic’s plan, not yours. We had to make our own choices about our future. And we have. Here we are. The circumstances aren’t perfect, and it’s a little earlier than we expected—”

“—that’s a nice way of saying ‘Abigail kicked us out,’” Raelle muttered.

“—but we’re doing this. Like Anacostia said, we deserve to be happy. Atlantic will just have to deal.” 

“Maybe I should get you to make peace with her, since you seem to understand her better than I do,” Raelle grumbled.

“She wouldn’t want to hear it from me; I’m the one who took you away from her.” Raelle sighed, and Scylla continued, “She’ll cool down. You are family.” 

“We’re _all_ family, Scyl.” Raelle put an arm around Scylla. “But you’re right. We wanted this. We should enjoy it.”

Scylla kissed the tip of Raelle’s pink nose. “Exactly. So how about we get out of the cold and finally move in to our new house?”

“Plan.” Raelle grinned, hefting her bags as they headed up the track to their house. In spring the surrounding woods would have been alive with birdsong, in summer the buzz of insects, and in fall the rustling of leaves. But now the path was silent, the only sound the crunching of their boots on the frozen ground.

It looked dead, but—as Scylla knew well—life and death were not so cut and dry. There was life here, dormant and sleeping, waiting to burst forth in the spring. She had always found winter to be the most hopeful of all the seasons. There was so much unspoiled potential waiting in the quiet earth.

The stillness meant that sound carried, so Scylla heard the crash of waves far before they reached the start of the beach where the path branched. Instead of continuing on between the sand dunes to the shore, they turned towards a tall wooden cabin nestled in the treeline.

It had come with the land, some wealthy person’s cozy getaway long abandoned to time and the wilderness. When they had first seen it over a year ago, Scylla had to rein in her scepticism. It had looked decrepit; the stone chimney worn and covered in vines, the roof missing tiles, the glass in the windows long gone. But Raelle’s eyes had lit up, seeing something in it that Scylla couldn’t.

Still, Scylla had balked, despite Raelle’s claims that the cabin’s foundations and frame were solid, and that she could fix it up in six months. It was only after Edwin—whisked up from the Cession by an enthusiastic Raelle for a second opinion—gave his approval a few days later that Scylla seriously considered the idea.

“Not six months though,” Edwin had mused, wiping his hands on a rag after giving the chimney a thorough inspection. “Eight. With my help.”

It had taken ten just to get the place habitable and weathertight. But Scylla had to hand it to them—the place was looking great. A new front deck and door, a redone back porch, new windows, a re-tiled roof. It looked almost new.

Still, it was missing a few basic amenities.

Like indoor plumbing. 

Raelle nudged Scylla with her shoulder. “What are you thinking about, Scyl?”

“Bathrooms,” sighed Scylla.

“There’s an outhouse,” said Raelle defensively. 

Scylla shuddered. She was not looking forward to taking midnight trips to the ancient structure in the middle of winter just to void her bladder. “I’m going to miss Salem’s flushing toilets.”

“I’m sorry,” Raelle mumbled, looking at her feet. “I tried to get it done in time. But it was that or the fireplace. The options were us freezing all the time, or just on the way to the bathroom.”

The wounded look on Raelle’s face made Scylla regret her careless griping. Raelle had worked so hard with Edwin to get the place ready. And despite Scylla’s apprehension about the project, watching them laughing and bickering together while they worked on the house had been delightful. Not in the least because Scylla suspected that it had helped them fill a Willa shaped hole in their lives, if only for a short while.

 _“You could always just move back to Carolina with me,”_ had been Edwin’s running joke whenever something went awry with the repairs. His gentle teasing had made Scylla smile, reminding her of her own father’s corny sense of humor.

“We’ll get a plumber out in the spring, Scyl, I promise. As soon as we can.”

Scylla blinked, returning to the present. “I know,” she said, cupping Raelle’s face and stroking her cheekbones. “You did such a good job. You built us a home.”

“A home,” Raelle repeated, expression brightening. “ _Our_ home.”

“Yes.” Scylla brought their faces together for a kiss, brushing her nose with Raelle’s once she had finished. 

Raelle pulled Scylla back for another, the heat in it catching Scylla off-guard.

“I’ve been dreaming of this day,” Raelle murmured against Scylla’s lips. “Of when we finally have our own home.”

“Me too,” Scylla breathed, but was denied any further comment when Raelle kissed her again, hard. She pulled Scylla in close, gripping the back of her neck possessively in a way that made Scylla’s knees go weak. Behind Raelle’s passion there was a hunger that unraveled the thread of Scylla’s inhibitions, leaving only an aching need to give in and submit to Raelle’s desires. 

Raelle bit Scylla’s lip and claimed her lips, gripping the back of her shirt. Scylla kept apace as best she could even as she struggled to stay upright. She wondered, with a thrill, if Raelle wanted to have her right here—mere yards from their front door—in the icy dirt. Or maybe Raelle would push Scylla to her knees—

Her fantasies were cut short when Raelle ended the kiss, backing away with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, beautiful, got a bit excited.”

“Don’t apologize,” Scylla murmured, dazed from the effect of the kiss and the direction her thoughts have gone. She’d had similar feelings before, but never with such intensity. Stifling her disappointment that the kiss had ended before anything had happened, she gestured to the door. “Shall we?”

Raelle grinned and bounded up the front steps, two at a time, before dumping her packs on the new deck. Anacostia had left the key—an iron monstrosity the size of Scylla’s hand—hanging on the handle of the front door. 

While Raelle wrestled with the lock, Scylla took some deep breaths, trying to clear her head.

Raelle had always had a profound physical effect on her. She’d known it that first time together, hot and heavy against the wall of Scylla’s room all those years ago. That effect had not faded; if anything, it had grown stronger as their relationship had matured. It would have been alarming, if not for the fact that Scylla knew she held the same power over Raelle.

But since the end of the war—and especially this year—Scylla’s response to Raelle had become particularly… pronounced. Scylla had begun to crave something new and reckless in response to a hunger she sometimes sensed in Raelle. A hunger Raelle shied away from every time it appeared.

Scylla had attempted to dismiss the feeling as any number of things; the relief of being alive after the war, pent up lust after being apart from Raelle for large chunks of time, a residual tension from the bumpier moments in their relationship. 

Whatever the cause, she had assumed it would pass.

But it hadn’t.

It had grown more persistent.

And had left her here, now, ready to drop to her knees—or better yet, get fucked in the dirt on their doorstep—after just a few heated kisses.

Scylla rubbed her temple as she watched Raelle struggle with the lock. Something had to give. She might need to talk to Raelle about it. But if she was being truthful with herself, she was nervous. 

Following those first whirlwind months after they met and their subsequent reconciliation, they had spent their entire relationship in the war against the Camarilla. It had been a fraught time, and hadn’t given them much opportunity to discuss, let alone explore, their sex lives outside of powering up and rare, precious moments snatched between ops.

Even after the war they had had little privacy or space, crammed into Scylla’s old room in Fort Salem—Abigail’s idea of a joke, no doubt—while the complex underwent renovations. 

But it hadn’t all been bad. They’d had time together like they hadn’t during the fighting. It had rekindled things that had become dormant out of necessity; they revisited old memories and feelings, making love like when they had right at the very beginning, hot and heavy and desperate in Scylla’s bed. 

But they had never pushed things past a certain point, and Scylla had been hesitant to ask Raelle to take charge more than she already did. She had reasoned that if Raelle had wanted to do so, she would have already. That, coupled with Raelle’s shying away from things getting too rough, was all the proof that Scylla needed to ignore her own desires and avoid an awkward conversation. If Raelle wasn’t on board, she wasn’t either. Even if she suspected that Raelle’s reluctance didn’t come from a lack of interest.

Even if Scylla’s yearning for something more was driving her to distraction.

The lock clicked open and Raelle put her hands on her hips. “I’m gonna have to fix that,” she said.

“We’ll put ‘oiling the locks’ on the never-ending to-do list,” Scylla said, shunting her thoughts aside for now as she stepped through the door with Raelle.

Anacostia had hung fresh mistletoe above the door and salted the threshold. Scylla smiled at the anachronism, amused and touched in equal measure.

The bare interior of the cabin still smelled of fresh sawn timber, with an additional tang of polyurethane hanging in the air. Boxes containing their few possessions were stacked against walls and stuffed into corners. Scylla was left with the impression of a blank canvas waiting to be filled with detail.

And it was toasty. Anacostia, Goddess bless her, had built a fire, and Scylla made a beeline for it, shucking off her coat en route. She sighed in satisfaction as she positioned herself in front of the hearth and held up her hands, allowing the heat from the flames to suffuse her cold limbs with warmth. The sigh turned into a smile when she felt warmth at her back too, tilting her head to the side as Raelle wrapped her arms around her.

“Need some warming up?” Raelle asked, nuzzling her neck.

“Not anymore,” said Scylla, leaning into Raelle. “You and Edwin did a fantastic job with the fireplace.” She turned in Raelle’s arms. “And everything else.”

Raelle’s face lit up in delight before her nerves took over again, emotions flitting across her face a mile a minute. “Are you sure you like it?” She picked at the hem of Scylla’s sweater. “I know it’s only half-finished. And kinda empty.” 

Scylla kissed Raelle’s cheek. “I love it. It’s home. And we have the rest of our lives to fill it up.” 

Although her intent had been to reassure Raelle, she realized she meant every word. She _did_ love this place already—like the winter path they had walked to get to it, it held such _potential_. 

Any last remnants of her previous reservations melted away from the warmth of Raelle’s proud smile. Her steadfast Raelle, who had worked ceaselessly to get the house ready for them. Scylla wanted to heap every reward and praise she could on her. Raelle deserved it.

Conscious of her callous comments earlier about the lack of bathrooms, Scylla made a show of checking out the floor-space in front of the fireplace. “You know what? I’m really looking forward to taking some old-fashioned baths in front of the fire.”

“Really?”

“Mmm. Cozy _and_ romantic.”

“I’m gonna draw you all the baths, Scyl.” Raelle looked like she was ready to vibrate out of her boots in excitement. “It’s gonna be so great. I promise.”

Scylla stroked Raelle’s cheek where she had kissed it. “I know it will. Shall we unpack?”

“Yeah! I can’t believe Anacostia brought the rest of our stuff from Salem.”

“It’s not like we have a lot, Raelle.”

“Then why did you need her truck?” Raelle gave Scylla a sly look. “Was it for the _surprise_?”

Scylla responded with a conspiratorial smile, “ _your_ surprise, yes.”

“For me?”

“A Solstice gift.”

“Scyl!” Raelle's eyes darted around the room. “Where is it? I wanna see it.”

“Alright,” Scylla chuckled, “but we need to do the medals first.”

“Yes, of course.” Raelle spun on her heel, excitement causing her to miss the pile of boxes at her feet. She tripped, only catching herself on the mantelpiece at the last minute. “Who put these here?”

“Oops.” Scylla raised a hand in apology. “That’s my fault. I asked Anacostia to.” 

Raelle’s mishap had knocked a box over, scattering framed pictures and photographs across the floor. Scylla and Raelle both kneeled to put them back in the box.

“I thought, maybe this wall, for your photos?” Scylla gestured over Raelle’s shoulder, to the expanse of bare wall next to the fireplace.

Raelle looked touched. “That’d be nice, Scyl.” She turned, brushing her fingertips along the wood paneling. “You don’t mind? I know you wanted to be in charge of decorating.”

“Of course I don’t mind. Wherever you want. But I thought you’d want to give them pride of place.” Her cheeks colored at Raelle’s soft look. “Also, it was the only wall that could fit them all.”

“There aren’t… there aren’t that _many_.” Raelle sounded as unconvinced by her words as Scylla looked.

“There _are_ that many. You’re single-handedly keeping the Maine picture framing industry in business.”

“It’s not that many,” Raelle muttered, stacking the boxes against the wall and out of harm’s way.

Scylla beckoned when Raelle had finished. “Shall we?”

They proceeded through the house, past the kitchen and onto the back porch. Raelle began patting her pockets.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten it,” said Scylla, fishing out her old army medal from the back pocket of her pants.

“I haven’t! I swear, it’s just where I put it. Right—here!” Raelle retrieved her own medal from her jacket’s inner pocket. 

Together they tied their medals to the bottom of a wind chime hanging by the door—a housewarming gift from Edwin. 

Scylla stepped back into the doorway and wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the cold, shoving her hands into the sleeves of her sweater. 

Raelle remained, reaching into her jacket again to bring out the protection charm she had given Scylla, almost four years ago at Fort Salem, when they had laughed and first shared this dream of their future together.

Raelle turned, eyebrows raised in a question.

“Go ahead,” Scylla said. “I won’t need it anymore.”

Raelle nodded and fixed the charm to the top of the chime. Then she joined Scylla on the threshold.

“It’s over,” whispered Scylla.

“Yeah.” Raelle rested her head against Scylla’s as they watched the chime sway and their medals glint in the afternoon sun.

Then Scylla shivered, snapping them out of the moment. 

Raelle wrapped an arm around her. “Let’s get you back inside, where it’s warm.” She gave Scylla a playful squeeze. “Then you can show me my surprise.”

“Ah yes.” Scylla smiled, eyes full of mischief. “Your gift. Follow me.”

Scylla led Raelle by the hand, barely letting her shut the door before pulling her upstairs to the mezzanine.

“Ooh, it’s in the bedroom?”

Scylla glanced back and raised a suggestive eyebrow, but said nothing.

“Scyl!” Raelle laughed, leaping up the staircase and jostling to get past Scylla. “C’mon! What have you and Anacostia set up?”

They burst up the top of the stairs together, Raelle almost tripping again before Scylla caught her arm. 

Scylla pulled Raelle upright before gesturing to the middle of the room with a smug grin. “The most important part of the house.”

The bed sat proudly below a large circle top window in the center of the room, a handcrafted queen of solid maple with an arched headboard featuring stylized slats that looked like waves or flames depending on the angle. Scylla had spent a sizeable amount on the commission but considered it money well spent. Still, she wasn’t the one it needed to impress.

“It’s beautiful,” breathed Raelle, circling it and running her hands along the polished wood. “I was going to make us one though.”

“I know. But we would have had to wait for spring. And I love you, Raelle, but I am not spending the entire winter sleeping on your shitty airbed.”

“It’s not that bad!”

“It really is. Besides.” Scylla plopped down on the bare mattress—extra springy, just how Raelle liked it. “You’ve been doing everything with the house. I wanted to contribute something.” 

Raelle’s face eased into a disarming smile. “You contribute just by being in it, Scyl.” 

Scylla tilting her head back and laughed. “Charmer! You know what I mean. Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

Scylla’s lips curled contentedly at Raelle, who was bright-eyed and happy in a way she had rarely seen since before the war. “Happy Winter Solstice. I’m glad you like your gift.”

“It’s amazing. But now I also wanna give you a Solstice gift,” Raelle joked. 

“You’ve given me so much already, Raelle.” 

“Well, I wanna give you something more! Something you really want.” 

“Well.” Scylla’s smile turned lascivious as she tugged on one of Raelle’s braids. “I might have something in mind.” 

“Oh?” Raelle raised an eyebrow.

Scylla twisted the braid around her finger. “We could break the bed in.” 

Raelle grinned. “Happy Solstice to me.” 

Scylla laughed out loud again. “Is that a yes?” 

“That’s a _hell yes_.”

Scylla pulled Raelle in for a kiss, allowing herself to linger on Raelle’s lips before parting. “We should get some sheets—”

Raelle was up and digging through boxes almost before the words left Scylla’s mouth, ripping open packing tape and pulling items out with reckless abandon.

Scylla wasn’t sure whether to be amused or annoyed at Raelle’s destructive enthusiasm.

“Raelle—” she began, but Raelle had already returned, arms full of a big fluffy duvet and some throws. Scylla frowned. “What about the sheets?” 

She got up, but Raelle dumped the bedclothes on her and she fell back with a bounce.

“This will do. I don’t want to waste time digging around for sheets.”

Scylla tossed the blankets to the side. “I’m sure they’re in the—”

Raelle interrupted her with a kiss, bending over and cradling Scylla’s face in her hands. Scylla lost her train of thought, mind going blank as Raelle’s tongue swiped her lips. Scylla parted them automatically, pulling Raelle on top of her, her excitement from their kiss outside returning with full force.

This time, however, Raelle seemed content to go soft and slow, settling herself lightly on Scylla and lavishing her with short, sweet kisses.

Scylla pushed thoughts from earlier aside and concentrated on enjoying the moment, the way Raelle’s hands teased at the edge of Scylla’s sweater, the languid kisses, the subtle shifting of their thighs. 

They stripped each other item by item, Scylla willing herself into a slow pace, Raelle savoring each garment that ended up on the floor. 

When Raelle settled on top of her again, this time naked, they both moaned and Scylla thought that surely this was enough. She ran her hands through Raelle’s hair, tucking her braids behind her ears, pulling her into deeper kisses.

It was gentle and passionate and slow, and any other time Scylla would have been more than happy to relax and take her time with Raelle like this.

But the truth was she didn’t want sweet and slow. She wanted hot and fast and hard. Raelle’s soft touches and kisses were lovely, and the warmth building in her stomach was genuine. But try as she might to fight it, Scylla’s mind kept wandering back to that kiss outside. The wild, shameful desire that had buzzed through her refused to die and was now threatening to overwhelm her again. 

Her heart thudded as she imagined dropping to her knees, servicing Raelle against the front door. 

While the Raelle of now stroked her hair, she thought of how the Raelle of her imagination might grip it painfully instead. How Raelle might push her to the ground, having her way with Scylla at her leisure. _Saying_ things.

“I’ve been wanting this all day,” the Raelle of now murmured into her ear, pressing a kiss to her lobe.

 _“You want this, slut,”_ fantasy Raelle growled, shoving a hand between Scylla’s legs while forcing her face into the dirt.

A spike of arousal shot through Scylla, only to be instantly replaced by guilt. Here Raelle was, being sweet and attentive, and Scylla was repaying her by fantasizing about her being the total opposite. 

Scylla needed to do something. “Raelle,” she said between kisses, digging her nails into Raelle’s shoulders to get her attention. “Can you… can you be rougher?”

Raelle’s responding grin was full of promise. 

“ _Yes,_ ” Scylla thought, as Raelle’s movements became more hurried, firmer. Raelle grabbed Scylla’s hips, grinding Scylla against her thigh. The harder movement was welcome, as were the bites Raelle was laying along her collarbone.

Even so, an ache remained—a craving that was increasingly difficult to ignore as Raelle’s attentions heated up.

“Raelle,” Scylla interrupted again. “The strap.”

Raelle paused to look at Scylla, eyes flashing with a hunger that made Scylla’s stomach flip. 

She gave a cocky “Yes ma’am,” before pushing herself off the bed for another chaotic search. Several boxes were opened—accompanied by some cursing from Raelle—before the object in question was located.

Scylla watched her, biting her lip. The shame she felt over her fantasies intensified. Not necessarily because of the contents, but because her and Raelle had been about to have sex and her mind had been elsewhere. It wasn’t right.

Yet still, she couldn’t get the thought out of her mind. Of Raelle holding her down. Having her way with Scylla.

Calling her a _slut_.

This couldn’t go on.

By the time Raelle had wiggled into the harness and strapped up, Scylla had decided. If she couldn’t get this to escalate to where she needed it to be, she’d need to discuss it with Raelle, regardless of how mortifying that might be.

Raelle wandered over to sit next to Scylla, full of swagger despite the bobbing dildo looking slightly ridiculous. But the way Raelle then lounged on her elbows, completely at ease, was anything but. 

Scylla licked her lips. Here went nothing. “Should I suck it?” she asked. 

“Oh uh.” Raelle’s cheeks went pink, and she shifted on the bed, confident body language collapsing. “That’s okay, we can always get some lube.” 

Scylla’s heart sank. She and Raelle had done this a few times before, and Raelle had always been interested. Why was she being so reticent now?

“I mean,” Raelle continued, “it’s up to you.”

“Raelle,” said Scylla, stroking Raelle’s thigh. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

“No! Uh. No.” Raelle’s cheeks went a deeper pink. “No, I want to.” She coughed. “I like it.”

“So do I,” said Scylla. “Especially if it’s a little rough today.”

Scylla watched Raelle for a reaction, and sure enough, her throat bobbed and she gripped the blanket under her. She _was_ interested.

And as much as Scylla would have loved to have left it at that and just continued, Raelle’s mixed signals meant that they were going to have to talk about this.

“Raelle—” she floundered, trying to begin. “You wanted to give me a Solstice present.” 

Raelle nodded, taking Scylla’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Anything, Scyl. _Anything._ ” 

There was no mistaking the emphasis on the last word, and Scylla wondered if Raelle had been _waiting_ for Scylla to bring something like this up, perhaps too shy to ask herself. 

It looked like Scylla was going to have to be brave for both of them. She closed her eyes and reminded herself that this was Raelle, the love of her life; someone she trusted _with_ her life, and whom she had never stopped loving, not for a single moment before and during the war, hoping against hope that they’d both survive long enough to see its end. 

And here they were, in their happily ever after. They’d both faced death and considerable hardships in order to be here today, and here she was fretting about making a simple sexy request. It was almost comical. 

Encouraged by Raelle’s reassuring smile, Scylla concentrated on their hands, taking strength from the comforting feeling of their fingers intertwining. Inhaling deeply, she took the plunge. “I want to suck on the strap. And then I want you fuck me.” 

“That I can do,” Raelle said with an assurance that was both sexy and sweet, being that it was no doubt intended to calm Scylla’s nerves. 

“And I want you to be rough.” 

The pink returned to Raelle’s cheeks, but her smile remained in place. “No problem, beautiful.” 

Scylla felt herself flushing, now. “Really _Rough_ , Raelle.And—” 

“And?” Raelle breathed, leaning forward.

Scylla took another breath. Here it went. “I want you to talk dirty to me. _Really_ dirty. I want you to be mean. And… and forceful.” 

“Oh.”

Now that the truth was out in the open, Scylla felt the shame and trepidation she had been feeling replaced by relief. Even if Raelle shot her down—or, rather, politely declined; Raelle would never make her feel bad about something like this—at least she had asked. 

Raelle exhaled, Scylla could see her pulse dancing in her throat. “I—is that really what you want?” 

“Yes,” said Scylla, holding Raelle’s gaze for a moment before dropping it. “But only if you want to. It’s not a big deal, just something I’ve wanted to try for a while. Not that the sex we already have isn’t always amazing! It is. But this has been on my mind.” Scylla realized she was rambling. 

Raelle’s voice was low and quiet. “I’d really like to try that too, Scyl.”

“Are you sure? Sometimes we almost get to that point, then you back away. It’s okay if you’re not into it.” 

“No, I—” Raelle laughed and shook her head. “Scyl, I wanna do this too. _Believe_ me.” She fiddled with their intertwined fingers, ears burning. “Sometimes I wanna just _fuck_ you, Scyl. Real rough. Real hard.” Despite the shame in Raelle’s voice, her words sent a thrill through Scylla. “I wanna own you. I wanna _take_ you. And I don’t wanna do it nicely. I just want to—” 

“Let go?”

“Yes.” Raelle blinked, looking at Scylla with surprise. “Exactly.”

“Me too,” admitted Scylla.

Raelle shook her head. “Huh. How about that?”

“So, why haven’t you? Let go.” 

“Because. I don’t know. It ain’t nice Scyl. And I love you. You know I’ve got no problems taking charge in the bedroom. But some things I want to say and do. It’s too much…” Raelle trailed off, staring at their intertwined fingers. Scylla gave Raelle’s knee a squeeze with her free hand and caught Raelle’s eye. “Sounds just like what I’ve been craving, Raelle.” 

Raelle’s head perked up. “Craving?” 

“Goddess, yes.”

“I like saying nice things to you too, Scyl. You know that, right?”

“I do. And I love hearing them. As I’m sure you’re well aware of by now.” 

Raelle’s cocky grin returned. “Yeah.” 

“But sometimes… I want something a little more spicy.” 

“… yeah. Me too.” 

Scylla stroked up Raelle’s thigh towards the first of the buckles of the harness—which had been all but forgotten during their conversation. Now, though, Scylla’s thoughts turned back to what they had been about to do before their talk. “Maybe now?” she asked, impatience winning over any hesitation she was feeling about asking Raelle for this so soon.

Raelle answer was to shift back on the bed, allowing Scylla easier access. Still. 

“Is this okay?”

“God yes,” breathed Raelle. “Only…” She gave Scylla an earnest, almost pleading look. “Promise you’ll tell me. If it’s too much. I’ll stop.” 

“I will.” Scylla continued to toy along the edges of the harness, causing Raelle to shiver. She then hooked a finger under one of the straps, tugging it to get Raelle’s attention before looking her squarely in the eye. “If you promise not to hold back.”

Raelle swallowed and nodded as Scylla kneeled at the edge of the bed between her legs.

Scylla licked her lips, resting her hands lightly on Raelle’s thighs before giving the dildo a few experimental swipes of her tongue. 

Raelle was silent, her breathing even. Without looking up, Scylla reached out, grabbing Raelle’s hand and placing it on top of her head. Raelle’s breath hitched, and Scylla wondered why she was being so passive. Hadn’t she just admitted that she wanted to do this?

Maybe it was just nerves. 

Scylla hoped it was just nerves.

She started sucking on the dildo, hoping to provoke some kind of reaction, willing Raelle to do something, _say_ something.

“You—you like that, huh?” Raelle said hesitantly. “You gonna show me how much?”

That was more like it. Scylla luxuriated in the subservient headspace she got into when she was on her knees; that sense that she belonged to Raelle and would do anything to please her. 

She answered Raelle’s question by swallowing the dildo as deep as it would go, pausing at the bottom before coming back up. 

Usually she’d get a “ _good girl”_ and encouragement for such behavior, but instead Raelle gripped Scylla’s head tighter, some confidence now entering her voice. “Is that all?” 

The casual dismissal, the reversal from Raelle’s usual soft words, sent a jolt of excitement through Scylla, spurring her desire to please. She deep-throated the dildo again. This time at the bottom, Raelle held her head in place. Scylla squirmed, suppressing her gag reflex, her excitement turning to arousal at being handled in such a way. 

When Raelle allowed her to come back up, she released the dildo with a muffled sound that was part gasp for air and part moan.

“You’re a needy girl, aren’t you, Scyl?” Raelle taunted, and Scylla felt wetness pool between her legs. 

She glanced up. Raelle had relaxed back onto her elbows to enjoy the view. Her indolent smirk made Scylla’s legs shake.

“Raelle,” Scylla quavered.

Raelle raised an eyebrow but didn’t move. “Raelle, what?”

“I—I’m ready now. To get fucked.”

“I’ll say when you’re ready. Get back to sucking.”

Scylla blinked. Normally Raelle was the impatient one during sex, and Scylla had to slow things down. It wasn’t often that their roles were reversed.

Raelle’s command warred with the building urge between Scylla’s legs and she shifted, torn on whether to obey or beg Raelle to give her some relief.

Raelle had noted her hesitation. She licked her lips, arrogant expression morphing to concern as she pushed herself up from her elbows. “Hey Scyl,” she said, tone softening, “was that too mu—”

“I’ll do anything you want,” Scylla interrupted, hoping her hesitation hadn’t spooked Raelle. “Anything. Just please fuck me.”

Raelle paused. “Anything?” she asked, taking Scylla’s hand and giving it a small squeeze, a silent plea for consent. 

Scylla squeezed back. “ _Anything._ ”

Raelle’s indolent expression returned, and she drew Scylla’s hand to the shaft of the dildo.

“Suck, and rub.”

Scylla suppressed a sigh of relief as she hurried to comply. She began sucking on the head of the dildo while her hand gripped the base, grinding it against Raelle. She glanced up to confirm that this was what Raelle wanted.

Raelle’s eyelashes fluttered and her head tilted back. She gripped Scylla’s hair and Scylla moaned, the sight of Raelle enjoying herself exciting her beyond measure.

Her focus shifted from her own pleasure to Raelle’s, pressing just so to get Raelle to groan, easing off when her thighs twitched in discomfort. Eventually she found a rhythm, rolling the dildo in light circles that soon had Raelle moaning quietly and bucking the dildo into Scylla’s mouth. Scylla couldn’t tear her eyes away, addicted to the sight of Raelle getting off from this.

“Oh, god,” murmured Raelle, almost too quiet for Scylla to hear.

Scylla redoubled her efforts, wetness trickling down her thighs as Raelle’s hips picked up the pace, matching her moans, surely about to come—

“Enough!” growled Raelle, stopping Scylla’s hand and prizing it from the dildo. “Enough,” she repeated, for her own benefit, it seemed.

“Raelle—” Scylla’s concern lasted only a second before Raelle got to her feet, pulling Scylla up with her. 

Scylla, dizzy from rising so fast, barely drew a breath before the world tilted as Raelle upended her and she crashed onto the mattress. 

She lay on her stomach, dazed, adrenaline coursing through her at being manhandled. Raelle’s breath was soft against her ear. “ _Now_ I’m gonna to fuck you.” 

A thrill ran through Scylla and she bit her lip, getting on all fours and meekly presenting herself to Raelle.

“Tempting, but not today.” Scylla gasped as Raelle flipped her, bouncing as her back hit the mattress. She somehow exposed like this, self-conscious about Raelle seeing her face and the mixture of shame and desire burning her cheeks. Gripping the blanket under her, she turned her head away, unable to meet Raelle’s eyes.

“Look at me,” Raelle growled. The one thing Scylla couldn’t bear to do right now. But the command in Raelle’s tone compelled her to obey. That feeling of compliance, of yielding to Raelle’s desires despite of her own discomfort, sent a pulse of desire through her so strong she throbbed. And Raelle wasn’t even in her yet. _Fuck._

Her eyes met Raelle’s, and she throbbed again. Raelle’s gaze held a predatory intensity she’d never seen before, like she was a morsel that Raelle was only holding back on devouring because she wanted to play with her first.

And oh, she was desperate for Raelle to do just that. Unable to stop herself, she bent her knees and spread her legs. 

Raelle settled back on her heels, positioning the dildo tantalizingly close to Scylla’s entrance. Scylla licked her lips, imaging what it would be like to have it inside of her. For Raelle to fill her and fuck her.

“I was gonna get you to spread your legs for me, but it looks like you’ve already gone and done that.” Raelle grabbed Scylla’s thighs, pinning them to the bed. “Slut.”

Scylla shuddered, the shame of the word and the vulnerability of her position sending a spike of arousal through her.

“So, you’re gonna to spread your cunt for me instead.” Raelle’s sharp eyes captured Scylla’s. “Do it.”

_Oh fuck._

Scylla reached a shaky hand down and did as Raelle asked, parting her folds under Raelle’s hungry gaze. She shivered as the air hit her exposed cunt, the lewdness of their position making her cheeks burn.

“So wet,” said Raelle, brushing the dildo against Scylla’s entrance. “Getting on your knees really does for you, huh?” She pressed the dildo’s tip into Scylla, coating it in her arousal before withdrawing.

The little tease had Scylla wanting more. She had done her best to hold her tongue and acquiesce to Raelle’s commands, but she was aching now, wanting to feel Raelle claim her, fill her, fuck her.

“Raelle,” she whimpered.

“Hm?” Raelle had that hungry look again as she rocked her hips forward and back. Their positions meant that the dildo could not go in deep, only an inch or two.

Scylla moaned, more loudly than she intended, but Goddess she wanted this. _Needed_ it.

“Grab your tits.”

It would have been embarrassing, how quickly Scylla responded to Raelle’s demand, except that she was long past the point of caring. This, _this_ is what she had been craving; to let go, stop thinking, and just _submit_.

She palmed her breasts, nipples stiffening when she brushed over them.

Raelle watched her intently, rocking her hips at the same infuriatingly slow pace, meeting no resistance as the dildo shallowly slid in and out of Scylla.

The teasing was becoming almost unbearable. Scylla pinched her nipples to find some relief, the spike of pain and arousal only serving as a partial distraction.

Raelle shifted, grabbing Scylla’s calves and resting them against her shoulders. The position allowed her greater depth, and Scylla abandoned her tits to grip the headboard as the dildo eased in deeper and Raelle resumed her even strokes.

Scylla craved more, cunt clenching around the dildo, powerless in this position to do anything except allow Raelle to fuck her.

“Bet you want more, huh?” said Raelle, reaching between Scylla’s legs to press her clit. It was an artless touch, almost careless, and Scylla needed more of it. 

“Look at you. Soaking,” Raelle continued, thumbing through Scylla’s slick folds. “You’re making a mess of our new mattress.”

“Raelle,” Scylla begged, each slow roll of Raelle’s hips and press of her thumb stoking a need in her that was becoming desperate.

“You want _this_ , don’t you?” said Raelle, jerking her hips. “Answer!”

“ _Yes_.”

Raelle leaned forward onto her palms, sliding her shoulders under Scylla’s knees. The dildo moved with Raelle, deep into Scylla until it bottomed out. Scylla cried out, the feeling of fullness and sting of the stretch almost overwhelming. “Yes, Raelle!”

“Listen to you, moaning like a whore.” Raelle pulled out, then drove the dildo back into Scylla with her full weight behind it, slamming into Scylla’s cunt with a thud that Scylla felt in her teeth. “Are you a little whore, Scylla?”

Raelle slammed in again, and it was so rough and so good, and Scylla _was_ Raelle’s whore, she _was_. “Yes,” she whimpered, every part of her needing Raelle to not stop, to keep going, faster, _harder_. “Goddess, _yes_.”

“Then I’m gonna to use you like one.”

Raelle started fucking in earnest, using long, brutal strokes and the bounce of the mattress to pound into Scylla again and again, the wet smack of their fucking just audible above the sound of the headboard knocking against the wall.

The juddering movements shook Scylla’s knees off of Raelle’s shoulders until they rested in the crooks of her elbows. Raelle paused to slip her arms free, propping herself up on her elbows before continuing. Scylla wrapped her legs around Raelle’s waist, nails digging into Raelle’s back as she hung on, each drive of Raelle’s hips forcing a cry out of her lips, each louder than the last.

Raelle lowered herself, panting in Scylla’s ear, biting her neck hard enough to mark.

The pain barely registered. The only thing that mattered to Scylla was the weight of Raelle pressing her into the matress and the incredible feeling of the dildo plunging into her again and again, pushing her closer to orgasm with every savage thrust.

“Raelle!” she cried, right on the edge.

“Oh god,” panted Raelle, breath hot against Scylla’s cheek. “Fuck. _Fuck._ ” The bites became messy kisses, and Raelle’s rhythm faltered, her movements becoming erratic. “You’re taking it so well, Scyl.”

Raelle’s loss of control only sped Scylla along. 

“You gonna come for me, baby?” Raelle gasped, bottoming out and grinding against Scylla.

“Yes,” Scylla choked out, digging her heels into Raelle’s ass to keep that delicious pressure on her clit going. Her entire cunt felt like it was clenching, full of that delicious ache that just kept building and building.

“Good girl.”

“Fuck, don’t stop,” sobbed Scylla, as her body tightened and the pleasure eclipsed her awareness. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Raelle said something in response, but it was lost to Scylla as her mind emptied and was flooded with the sweet relief of release. She floated in pleasurable blankness for an undetermined amount of time, a new aftershock of pleasure arriving with every thrust between her thighs. Eventually the movements stopped and she resurfaced, eyelids heavy as she forced them open.

“Rae—” she said, groggily, but stopped when she registered what she was seeing.

Raelle had withdrawn the dildo and had loosened the harness around herself, but remained on all fours over Scylla. Her hand worked furiously between her legs, chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “Scyl, Scyl—” she whimpered.

Scylla could only look on in awe as Raelle fucked herself to completion, her whimpers cut off by cry and a shudder before she collapsed on top of Scylla, strap still tangled around her legs.

“You,” Scylla slurred, brain trying to keep up with what was happening. “You just—” 

“I’m sorry.” Raelle panted, heartbeat erratic against Scylla’s chest as she caught her breath. “I couldn’t wait. Had to—”

“I would have—” 

“I know, but I was kind of desperate.” Raelle flopped onto her back and chuckled. “That was so fucking hot, Scyl.” She shimmied out of the harness and kicked it to the bottom of the bed while Scylla settled in next to her.

“How are you?” asked Raelle, tucking a strand of hair behind Scylla’s ear.

“A little sore,” admitted Scylla, before shooting Raelle a smug grin. “But very satisfied.”

“So, I delivered?”

“And then some.” Scylla grew serious, ghosting Raelle’s face with her fingertips. “Thank you, Raelle. For—indulging me.”

“Indulging? Are you serious?” Raelle’s eyes did Scylla’s favorite crinkly thing as she smiled. “That was amazing. God.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t get to finish you off—”

“Jesus, you nearly did. Way too early.” Raelle puffed out her cheeks. “When you were on your knees, rubbing me with the strap.”

Scylla smirked. “I knew it. I knew you were close.”

“I nearly blew it, right there. Before we even started fucking. Like a horny teenager or something.” Raelle shook her head. “I don’t know what you do to me, Scyl.”

“You should have let me finish you. You might have had an easier time concentrating,” Scylla teased, poking Raelle in the ribs.

“I uh, wanted to deny myself. Until I couldn’t take it,” Raelle said, ears burning.

Scylla raised an eyebrow. “Oho. Is this something else we need to try?”

“Maybe.” Raelle gave her a sheepish smile. She looked so soft, lying there on the bare mattress, smiling with pink cheeks. Scylla loved that about Raelle—how she could be so cocky and confident one moment, and so soft and gentle the next. How she was more comfortable being the latter, how earnest and unhesitating she was when giving compliments, kisses, anything.

“Noted,” said Scylla, kissing her cheek.

“Speaking of,” said Raelle, “any notes for next time?” 

“Weeell.” Scylla drew out the word with a mischievous smile. “I kind of have a thing for that southern twang you occasionally let slip…”

Raelle’s teeth flashed as she smiled. “Ma’am,” she said in her best Carolina drawl, “are you tellin’ me you wanna get a talkin’ to by a rough and dirty Cession girl?”

“As long as she puts her back into it at the same time.”

“Ha! Not anytime soon, Scyl. I’m _done._ ”

“Poor baby. Let me bundle you up while you recuperate.” Scylla slipped down to retrieve the forgotten duvet, detouring to kiss Raelle’s stomach along the way.

“This is all I ever wanted.” Raelle’s face was serene as she stared, unfocused, at the ceiling.

“To fuck me senseless? You should have mentioned something sooner. I’m clearly game.” Scylla dusted Raelle’s ribs with kisses, laying claim to them one at a time.

Raelle’s chest vibrated under Scylla’s lips as she laughed. “Not that. Well, okay, not _just_ that. It’s more like—" Raelle cast about, searching for the right words, before her eyes landed on a picture Scylla had reserved from the pile downstairs—a photo of her parents, smiling broadly despite how hard their lives must have been as dodgers. “It’s like when you’re taking a photograph of something beautiful, but it’s fuzzy. You know it’s there, but you can’t quite capture it. That was me, during conscription. I wanted a normal life. I didn’t know what it would look like, but I wanted it. But I thought I would never get it, so I wanted to die instead.”

“I know,” Scylla murmured, coming back up and kissing Raelle before pulling the duvet over them both, as if shielding them from such dark memories.

Raelle turned to Scylla with a look that made all thoughts of war, heartache and hardships evaporate. “And then I met you, Scyl. And suddenly, everything snapped into focus. That vague idea I had became crystal clear. I could see all of this—the house, the forest, the beach. The beat-up truck. The bed. It’s what I fought for.” She paused for breath. “Don’t get me wrong, ditching the Salem Accords and Alder’s military—I’m glad it’s happening. I’m happy Tal and Abi are dealing with that mess, once and for all. But if I’m being honest, I fought so me and my loved ones could live the life they chose to, and be safe. So we could live in peace, and just _be_.”

Scylla was quiet for several moments. “Me too, Raelle,” she said, fiddling with Raelle’s fingers. “I never expected to want all of this domestic stuff until I met you. And even then, I never thought it would be possible. I never had it growing up; I didn’t know what it would look like. But I’m here now. And even if I didn’t know I was fighting for it, I’m glad I did.”

“You fought to liberate us. All of us, all witches. You’re an idealist, Scyl. It’s why I love you.”

“It’s all done now, though.”

“Yeah, it is. Now we can move on.”

“Focus on the important things in life. Like dirty talk and breaking our new bed.”

Raelle laughed again, and it was the sweetest sound Scylla had heard all day—unfettered, unburdened, and totally free.

Because that’s what they were now. 

And while they still had boxes to unpack, a house to finish fixing, and some bruised friendships to mend—they could put that all aside for a while. They could grab another duvet from their box of bedding and cocoon themselves, cuddling and laughing and teasing each other on their new mattress, in their new bed, in their new house.

This was a moment they could take for themselves. They had the time, and the space. And a future together, full of possibilities.

**Author's Note:**

> Maximum love for [vuvalinis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vuvalinis), who looked over this for me.


End file.
